


Good Boy

by Ellie226



Series: Noah's New Life [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Age Play, Diapers, Discipline, Infantilism, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-03
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 19:54:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/828216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellie226/pseuds/Ellie226
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah wasn't sure when things had changed, when exactly the phrase had stopped making him squirm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Boy

He didn’t like it at first. It made him squirm, but not in a good way. Truthfully, he hated it. Dave had no business calling him, “Good boy.” He wasn’t a fucking dog.

Of course, explaining that to Dave did not go over well. He probably should have chosen his words better, but Noah wasn’t quite to the point where he was willing to stop before he spoke.

“‘m not a fuckin’ dog,” he spat at the man, fed up.

He regretted his word choice almost immediately. Daddy was praising him for picking up his toys in the playroom without complaint, but that meant they were only one flight of stairs away from his bathroom, where there was a washcloth and a bar of soap that Dave saved expressly for this purpose.

Spluttering around the sudsy cloth in his mouth, Noah seriously considered biting, if only for a moment.

“Don’t even think about it, Noah Aaron. After the language you just oh so casually used upstairs, you should be very glad that I’m just washing your mouth out. If you so much as nip, I’ll be putting you over my knee and using the bathbrush on your naughty little bottom,” Dave warned, sounding very serious.

Noah wasn’t sure how he’d known, but it was enough that he’d guessed. Sniffling, Noah settled a bit, allowing the rest of the punishment. 

When Daddy was done, Noah didn’t want a cuddle. Nose in the air, feeling deeply injured, he began to stalk off to the nursery.

“Where’re you going, baby?” Dave asked. He couldn’t help but be amused at Noah’s obvious mood.

“My room,” Noah said angrily. “You’re not invited.”

He sounded all of four years old, and Dave let him go, recognizing that he needed a minute to pout and be angry about his life.

That understanding did not extend to Dave stopping using the hated phrase. Sometimes, it was unintentional. Noah was trying so hard, and Dave wanted something that he could say that showed him that he understood. And Noah was a good boy. In spite of everything, he was. Dave saw a sweetness in him that he hadn’t known about before.

Sometimes though, it was on purpose. Kurt had explained it to Dave, that as much as he had hated being told, “Good boy,” that had abated after a while. Now, it mostly made him feel at home with his daddy, like he could be little and naughty, and that Daddy would still think he was good.

So Dave continued saying, “Good boy,” just like he continued with the diapers and the casual touching and all of the millions of things that he did to help Noah. 

It was gradual, Noah’s changing feelings. That was true of all of the things that Dave did. The first thing to go was Noah’s hatred of cuddling at the end of the day. Something about being cradled there, drinking the warm milk while Daddy stared down at him and talked quietly. It was like Noah was the most important thing in his world, and although it made him feel a little squirmy in his tummy, that slowly shifted to just warmth. 

After that was reading on the couch. Daddy was so casual about it, like this was just something that people did. You sat with someone quietly, and they put their arm around you while reading something out loud. Something that you were clearly too old for, but it was still kind of interesting, and between stories of dragons and lions and princes coupled with Daddy’s comforting, warm, bulk, Noah couldn’t help but like it. He liked it enough that after a while, he would get a book when Daddy wasn’t watching, and suddenly appear in front of Dave, silently holding it out.

And then it was cooking together. And the way that Daddy stroked his back as he fell back to sleep after a nightmare. Playing together. Watching movies. Warm baths with Daddy’s gentle hands...and somewhere along the line, Noah adjusted to the names.

Well, most of the names. Noah Aaron still made his stomach squirm in the uncomfortable way that he didn’t like at all. But my Noah, my baby, bug...those were all okay. Good boy took a bit longer, and he’d blush when Daddy said it, but he also began trying to hear it.

He’d eat his vegetables without complaint and tug at Daddy’s hand to mumble that he was wet. He apologized when he did something rude. He shared his toys with Kurt. And Daddy would look at him, smiling, and say, “That’s my good boy, Noah.”

He wasn’t sure exactly when it went from the unpleasant, uh oh, kind of squirming to the mildly embarrassed but still pleased squirming, but it did. Noah liked making Daddy proud, and he liked hearing that he was Daddy’s, so he adjusted.


End file.
